


this winter has a magic (that makes my heart come undone)

by Waistcoat35



Category: Les Misérables (TV 2018), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, In which Rivette's apartment is shared by a grumpy inspector, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues, Shy, Sunday mornings, in which Rivette is Definitely Not a functional morning person, they're both dorks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-30 01:12:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18305144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waistcoat35/pseuds/Waistcoat35
Summary: In which Javert shares Rivette's apartment, and they enjoy a Sunday morning off.





	this winter has a magic (that makes my heart come undone)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my comeback after suffering an inability to finish anything I wrote for like, a month??? Also I started it at midnight and wrote until about 4am, so quality is not guaranteed. These two are such dummies, though, and I love them enough to recover from writer's block to give them happiness. This is set a little ways into their relationship and, though it isn't mentioned, is post-seine. I'd like to give a ton of thanks to the sewerchat, for listening to my hopeless ass cry about Rivert.
> 
> Also, the table bit was inspired by a wonderful piece of fanart by jesuisuninny on tumblr - please go and check them out here! https://jesuisuninny.tumblr.com/post/182468517658/theyre-supposed-to-be-working-lets-be-real

The window facing Rivette’s back was misted around the edges, the pale frosted glass a gauze through which cold, marble morning light bled. He warmed his hands on the coffee cup in front of him as he waited for the second lot of water to boil, all the while thinking that there were far better ways to conserve heat, all of them far more orientated around a warm duvet. Stifling a yawn in one fist, he leaned over the small counter a little more.

“Not standing to attention, ‘vette?” The soft, low murmur was stained with amusement around the edges, and sounded exceedingly close as the subject of the question gave a surprised jolt. He thought, momentarily, of how he enjoyed the shortened name from the other man’s mouth more than he should, sleep softening it and smoothing its edges like a stone on a riverbed.

“Didn’t think-” he paused, finally giving in to the urge to yawn, snuffling slightly through his fingers, “didn’t think the occasion demanded it, sir.”

There was a snort from behind him. “Calling me sir, on a Sunday morning off. It seems rather excessive.” Rivette gave a light chuckle.

“Only the highest of standards for Monsieur standing-up-to-attention.”

It earned him a gentle swat as Javert sauntered over, skirting the table with more grace than he himself had been able to muster. “You’re remarkably coherent, for saying it is such an informal occasion.”

“Somebody might as well be.” Javert nudged his right side like an affectionate cat passing by, and Rivette leaned into his warm bulk for a moment in kind. It was almost instinctive, remarkably quick in developing.

“You’re jumpy when you’re half asleep, hmm?” He could hear something different in Javert’s voice, a grain of amused affection, perhaps. He gave a slight nod, before realising that it was almost impossible to notice, and settling for a monosyllabic answer.

“Mm.” He turned his head sideways somewhat, in an attempt to nuzzle into the shorter man’s shoulder, perhaps. In return, he got a deep chuckle that buzzed through him and fizzed in his stomach, as if he were a flustered schoolboy. It made him feel warm all over, and he found himself once again entirely marvelling at it all. How strange, that such a morning should be possible – should be at all within his reach!

He was leaning into the touch now, and any last bothering feelings about propriety had long fled on swift wings, as they had done several such mornings ago. The grounding weight of Javert’s chin dug into his shoulder, and as the other man cleared his throat he felt it through his nightshirt.

“We ought to finish making that coffee, before it cools.”

“Mmf.”

“Come on, Rivette.”

“Must we, really?”

“If you wish to regain some semblance of full consciousness before noon, then yes. I do believe we must. I am no more a morning person than you.” He was given a light shove that rocked him fully back onto his feet, and he forced himself to pay better attention to the boiling water, lest he burn himself. His vision was still slightly bleary, so all his concentration momentarily went into ensuring the water went into the cup, as the Lord intended. No sooner had he done so, however, than a hand snaked under his outstretched arm and swiped the cooler of the two cups. He made a sound that was at least intended to sound protesting, and Javert resurfaced from the rim of the mug in time to quirk an eyebrow. Rivette imagined him to be smirking, hidden just behind the cup.

“Something the matter, Rivette?”

“I believe I have a crime to report, Inspector.” He turned a little more so as to ensure Javert received the full weight of his baleful expression. “A theft, as it were.” The other man merely rolled his eyes, lifting his head further so that Rivette could see his mouth curl into something that might become a smile. (Each time that happened it became slightly less shy than the time before, a happening that Rivette felt a twinge of pride at having assisted in.

He was beckoned as Javert retreated to the table, and followed thusly, his chair immediately tilted diagonally and their knees pressed together. He knew not which of them first entwined their hands and interlaced their fingers, but from the slight darkening of his companion’s cheeks, he could draw his own conclusions. Javert propped his arm up on his elbow, lifting Rivette’s arm with the movement since neither would attempt to escape the clasp of their hands. He pulled over a file of case notes from the end of the table. Rivette suppressed a groan; it would seem that no morning, day off or level of unconsciousness would sway the inspector when it came to his paperwork.

Giving a last muffled yawn, Rivette peered at it, tilting his head to see the text more easily.

“My turn to read through, I believe?” He didn’t see the soft look that flicked down to him and then away again.

“If you feel awake enough.” He snorted, and after briefly scanning the first sheet, began to read it aloud. When he was finished, he tilted his head upwards to comment on some choice detail picked out from the notes, but he was stopped short by the unfathomable expression on Javert’s face. His brow furrowed slightly.

“Something the matter?”

Javert’s expression softened slightly, and their fingers became further intertwined. Rivette’s sleeve slid down slightly, a stretch of freckled skin with cold light glancing off it. “I am…glad of you, Rivette. Exceedingly so.”

He gave a light huff. “Thank you, sir. I have my uses, I’ll admit.” His partner appeared to wince slightly, and he berated himself internally. He still, even now, seemed to be capable of doing the wrong things, or else not saying the right ones.

“It is not a matter of usefulness, Rivette.” He straightened up from his lazily hunched position, and turned to Javert, blinking owlishly.

“I’m afraid I don’t quite understand what you mean, sir.” Javert huffed, and scrubbed a wary hand over his face.

“You are not making this terribly easy for me, Rivette. Come now, you are no fool. I am saying –” he sighed, agitated now. “I am saying that you are more than your work. There is far more to you than that alone.”

Rivette raised an eyebrow, bemused. “My hesitance? My tendency to ramble? You have plenty of aspects to choose from. I make them readily available.” Though it was meant in jest, the response seemed to sadden Javert.

“If that is what you believe, then it seems my misjudgments of those around me span farther than I initially believed. Oh, don’t look at me like that.” He gestured to Rivette’s now-worried expression. “I am saying that you rarely do yourself justice, and I have not often done so either. There is much of you that I admire. You are a good man, and a kind one, and – confound it. I am not skilled in this area, as I am sure you’ve observed.”

Rivette’s eyes widened, and he hoped that he was not blushing too prominently as he tried not to fidget, for want of some means of occupation. He had to admit, though he knew, by all logic, that he was liked by Javert – must be, for his company to be kept – he hadn’t expected it to be made so blatantly clear. However, he was glad of it. It was a truth he did not expect, but certainly cherished. He quirked his own mouth in a smile, and met the inspector’s gaze. “I – thank you. You are rather pleasing yourself, sir.”

How strange it was, this tentative dance they were in, always changing directions, one leading, and then the other. And there it was, a flicker of disbelief in the other’s eyes. He shuffled his chair still closer, wincing as it screeched over the floorboards, and dared to drape an arm over Javert’s shoulders.

“It is true. You have just said yourself that you hold me in good esteem, so you might believe what I say. I find you brave, honourable,-“ he paused, to raise both eyebrows, “not terribly bad-looking, if I may be so very bold.”

“Irritable.”

“Grumpy, I rather think.”

“Hmm.”

“It _is_ rather endearing, sir.”

“You needn’t call me that here, you know.”

“I see it as an…expression of my fondness, sir.”

Javert sighed, and lifted his eyes heavenwards. “We ought to get on with this case.” Rivette’s smile grew, and he hooked his chin over Javert’s shoulder in a sudden, rare moment of boldness and impulse.

“The inspector never rests, I see.” Javert turned his head enough to look Rivette in the eye before tentatively pressing his lips to the top of his head, and that smile reappeared, less of a brief affair this time. A swallow staying for the summer, rather than a swiftly flitting dragonfly. Though the coffee cooled, their gazes didn’t, and they braved the winter’s morning together – just as they had for many a year, though at the time, they had scarcely even realised it.


End file.
